


Magic But Treatable? Or: The Loss Of Merlin

by rekishi



Category: Merlin (BBC)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-10-09
Updated: 2009-10-09
Packaged: 2017-10-04 02:17:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rekishi/pseuds/rekishi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur has been trying to track down Merlin for the past three hundred years. Now he has finally found him but why is everyone looking at him as if he's gone crazy once he asks for directions?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Magic But Treatable? Or: The Loss Of Merlin

Arthur Pendragon had decided that, after losing his warlock three centuries ago, losing his way in a clinic cum research facility was decidedly not a good thing. Whenever he told someone he had lost Merlin, they started having this look of pity in their eyes. And for the life of him, he couldn't figure out why. It had taken him enough time already to track down the man and now no one seemed willing to point him the way. Destiny seemed to be against him since he kind of kick-started the American Revolution by asking poor George to sanction what later should be called the Intolerable Acts. But was it his fault that these sodding insufferable colonists couldn't deal with what their government asked of them? Certainly not. But no, Merlin had just looked at him, tapped his foot a few times just to turn around and walk out of the room. And not come back.

But really. That could not have been right. Certainly, Merlin would under no circumstances have abandoned him there to be flayed by the masses. Accordingly, someone or some_thing_ must have interfered in their lives. Again. Not like that wasn't common practice with them anyway, had been ever since the same force had brought them together at Camelot all those centuries ago.

And now he had him again. If just he could _ find_ the man at least.

"Excuse me, hi," he reached out one hand and held up a young woman in a spotless white lab coat that looked considerably unused. Maybe she was new. Or those coats were just to fool people. "I'm looking for Merlin?" Again that look.

"Uhm," she frowned, "well, you'd need to be specific, I guess? Everyone here is working with merlin and if you are looking for your doctor..."

He shook his head. "No, you don't... I mean I am looking for a doctor, but I'm looking for Merlin himself, so if you could just show me where-" It was useless. It was beyond obvious that she didn't understand him. "Forget it."

"No. Wait. Let me... I'll take you somewhere?" Smiling now, she held her hand out towards the hallway in invitation, shifting her paperwork onto her other hip like an awkwardly sized toddler and walked next and slightly in front of him. "I'm sure Dr. Sage will know how to find what you're looking for." Again, that brilliant smile and then she was knocking at a nondescript door, opened it without waiting for an answer and led him in.

The man who was sitting behind a large desk mainly made of chrome and glass could have been Gaius, a thousand years ago. Of course, that wasn't possible, the old man had been dead and buried long before Arthur had even ascended the throne and now very much seemed to be Camelot's eternal guardian, taking care that no one could find it, alongside legions led by Lancelot, Morgan and Gwen. So many people dead, Merlin and him the only ones remaining.

Dr. Sage stood up and reached out a hand. "Hello, I'm Dr. Sage. How may I help you?"

"Good afternoon. My name is Niall Rillish," he had learned long ago that giving his real name was a useless gesture, it had landed him in psychiatric wards more often than he could count in the last two hundred years.

"So how can I help you Mr. Rillish?" They both sat down and Dr. Sage smiled affirmingly.

"Well, you see. I lost Merlin a while ago and now I'm trying to find him again. I have reason to be believe I can accomplish that here, but everyone just looks at me with this weird look when I tell them and now your young colleague brought me to you. So my question is, can you help me?"

The old man looked at him for a few seconds, blinked and raised an eyebrow. Very Gaius. If the old man hadn't had any known relatives Arthur would suspect a very distant relation. "Well. I. I'm sorry, Mr. Rillish, to hear about your condition. I don't know, however, how I could help you for I am not treating afflicted patients. Counselling is done in another wing, easier accessible for the patients, you see, especially after surgery. Maybe I could call one of our researchers here to pick you up and bring you there?"

Arthur rubbed at his forehead. He was getting a headache. "No," he got up. "Thank you very much," he smiled, as dazzling and charming as he managed with a migraine creeping up on him. "I guess I will try my luck on my own. Thank you, Dr. Sage." As he left the office, he could feel the man's eyes on him. Why was everyone giving him that bloody piteous look?

Loitering in front of a glass door that led to a wing that wasn't accessible to him since you needed a key card to enter, he had seen a lot of people come and go within the last two hours. None of whom seemed familiar. Well, why would they? Obviously, either they were all mocking him, or Merlin just wasn't here. But then everyone seemed to recognize the name, so why could no one point him into the right direction? The doors opened with a swish of air and out came a small group of people, none of them wearing a lab coat but all dressed in casual clothes, jeans, sweaters, shirts. And among them, a man he hadn't seen in three hundred years but who hadn't changed at all. "Do you know how long I have been looking for you?" he thundered and the whole group stood as if rooted to the ground, eyes big, except one, who rolled them back into his head.

"Have you?" Merlin sighed and smiled excusably at the other men, then took Arthur's arm and dragged him off down the hallway. "Please tell me you're not the 'poor cancer patient wandering the halls all lost and sad looking for his merlin'," he hissed under his breath.

"Ca- No! Why would I be? I was just asking about you and everyone keeps giving me these looks. They all must have lost their minds!" Cancer, what a joke. They were back in the clinic wing, patients and nurses milling about and Merlin was still dragging him onward.

"No, Arthur, they just all think you have a tumour in your brain about the size of my fist, the way you're going on about wanting to find merlin." One balled hand appeared in his field of vision. "So everyone is being compassionate and looking out not to hurt your feelings. Clearly, that compassion is misplaced."

Of course it was. "But why would they assume that, when I was just asking for you?"

"You really are an oaf. You will never change, will you? No matter how much time goes by, you will still be the same prat as that crown prince I had to deal with a millennium ago, won't you? Okay, I will spell it out for you. Merlin is a protein, the loss of its gene causes neurofibromatosis, an inherited form of brain cancer, although the tumours are benign. We are working with it here, doing research with direct relation to the patients." Outside, Merlin talking in low undertones.

"Please tell me you didn't name it after yourself."

Those blue eyes rolling once more. "Of _ course_ not, I didn't get into this until after it was long named already."

"So why does no one react to it as your name anyway?"

"Do you really think I can go around the history of the world with a name like 'Merlin'? I changed it, of course, like we used to since they started to keep records properly." They were in the park that surrounded the facility now, Merlin greeting people once in a while. His body was more relaxed now, tension not making his shoulders rigid.

Arthur looked him over, shrugged. "Maybe I should have described you then. Young, dark haired, gangly guy," he mused.

The other man snorted. "You just described half the staff, Arthur."

"Niall, mind you. So by what do you go these days? None of your other aliases pinged. Finding you here was no more than a lucky shot."

"Did I ever tell you how much the name Niall doesn't fit you? I must have, I have been complaining enough about it over the years. John Smith, nice to meet you." When Arthur just stared at him, he shrugged. "What? It worked for the Doctor." Blinking, Arthur slowly shook his head.

"Merlin."

"Arthur."

"Why did you never come back?"

His former friend, lover and adviser slapped his hand forcefully against his chest. "You started the blasted American Revolution, you big prattish oaf of a former High King! You really think I would just stand by silently and nod my head with a blissed smile?"

"Well...no," Arthur admitted, cocked his head and smiled, the smile that wasn't quite as dazzling or as charming as the one he used on strangers but the small and private one, the one he knew had made Merlin weak in the past. "But man, it's been three hundred years! That's a lot of punishment for asking someone to sanction a few laws."

Merlin raised an eyebrow. "And if you had been in his position?"

"Why, I would have flocked my adviser of course." The other eyebrow rose along the first and the look turned pointed. "It's still a long time!"

"Well, I was busy."

"Doing what?"

Merlin leaned his, pressed a quick kiss to his lips and smirked. "Who do you think got the Great Rapprochement under way?"

-Fin-

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, that really is the protein's name. It's an acronym, really, but most groups working with it have been cracking jokes about it in one or more papers published. I owe inspiration for the title to C.O. Hanemann


End file.
